


Diary of a Zombie

by KorrasamianCity



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Jokes, F/M, Gen, Light Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, mentions of adult situations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrasamianCity/pseuds/KorrasamianCity
Summary: On the surface, Clementine Crawford seemed like just another teenage girl from Georgia.As long as you didn't get on her bad side, due to an uncontrollable temper. Thanks, childhood trauma.Lee Everett, a family friend of the Crawford's and a history teacher for Ericson's, encouraged the family to enroll her into the 'Boarding School for Troubled Youth', for the girl's best interest.And so they did, in hopes the school's therapy and rehabilitation programs could help her.But now, she gets in constant trouble for refusing to take off her blue baseball cap in class.And the small group of misfits in the back of class couldn't help but whisper questions amongst themselves.What was with her strange obsession with Zombies?How does she know Mr. Everett so well?Why was that hat so important?And why was there blood on it?
Relationships: Clementine/Louis (Walking Dead: Done Running), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 34





	1. Signing Over Freedom

Clementine probably wouldn't have labelled herself as a _'Troubled Youth'_ , despite what the brochure for Ericson’s tried to drill into her mind.  
Sure, she had a sharp tongue and was quick to fists when push came to shove, but was that really enough reason to send her to a _fucking boarding school?_

She strangled the folded letter between her grip as she sat in the menacingly quiet front office. Stewing sourly in her thoughts, she tossed the crumpled brochure on the cold ground.

Her parents certainly seemed to think so.

~

_“It won’t be so bad,”_ Her mother, Diana, had attempted to reason with her the week before, _“Their therapy program is one of the best in the country. They can help you.”_

 _“Plus, they have a soccer team!”  
_ Her father cluelessly tried to persuade her. Ed promptly slid her the red and white brochure across the dining room table, receiving a dark glare from the teenager in front of him.  
 _“And it’s not like you'll be alone. Lee teaches there!”_

_~_

_Lee._ Of course. She had almost forgotten _he_ put them up to this.

_~_

_“_ _This school could do great things for you, Clem,”_ He had explained over the phone, _“I’ve seen many students like you make great progress here.”_

~

She remembered when she got the news, at first thinking it was some practical joke.  
The longer the 'joke' went on, the faster her laughter transformed into throwing plates and screaming profanities that would make a sailor jump ship.  
Not to mention crying through her farewells as she left her few friends behind.   
At least it wasn’t completely goodbye. She had their numbers.

If they let her keep her phone, that is.

**_“Crawford?”_ ** A gravelly voice jumped her out of her thoughts.

The teenage girl lifted her eyes from her mind- A scrawny male stood in the window of the admissions office. He wore a uniformed blazer, a delicate emblem of the school patched across his left breast pocket. 

“My eyes are up here.” He joked, forming a toothy smile that Clementine couldn’t help but feel creeped out at.

The girl lifted from the leather waiting chair and raised her eyes to his, immediately faltering at his eyes’ differing colors. Although his left was an earthy brown, his right shined a watery blue.

“Let’s make this fast, I wanna get this over with.” He scrawled, his lined forehead creasing in annoyance, “Are you Crawford, or not?”.

“Yes, sir.” She quickly responded, crossing her arms over her chest in some form of protection.

“Your parents taught you manners,” He noted with a grim gaunt. “That’s good. A lotta kids here don’t got that.”

Clementine said nothing, scanning the cheap school posters lining the walls. Music, sports, and art. They must do a lot of programs. Didn’t her father mention something about soccer?

The man opened a file cabinet within the booth, pulling some type of form out of a manila envelope. She watched as he grabbed a pen from a “#1 Boss” mug, and a wooden clipboard from the desk’s drawer.

“Crawford… Female...” He muttered to himself, scratching it on the paper before lifting his attention again. “First name?”

“Clementine.” She immediately answered.

The man blinked. “Really? Like the fruit?”

The teenager crossed her brows. “Yeah, so what?”

“ _There’s_ that sass we usually get,” The man huffed in amusement, “Just a weird name, s’all.”

Clementine mentally scoffed, biting her sharp tongue. She hugged her arms tighter as she waited for the next question.

“Date of birth?”

“October 26th.”

“Year?”

“1995.”

The man sighed impatiently. “Height?”

“5’1’’.”

“Race?”

Clementine squinted. She bit her tongue harder.

“What?” He questioned defensively, “It’s for identification purposes. We get runners sometimes.”

She darted her eyes to the ceiling. “Black.”

“Hair color?”

“Black.”

“Eye color?”

Clem blinked, her mind coming to a blank. She’s always heard amber, gold, sienna… Any color besides an actual eye color. She’d check herself, but her appearance wasn’t something she tended to dote on.  
  
She avoided mirrors at all costs, actually.

“I don’t know.” She finally said, receiving an odd glare.

“You don’t know your own eye color?” He prodded in confusion.

“How would _you_ answer?” Clementine snarked back, burning a hole through his mismatched eyes.

 _“Touché.”_ He said simply, jotting down a simple _‘N/A’_ on the blank space. “Any identifiable features? Noticeable scars, tattoos?”

“A few scars.”

“What and where?” He boredly asked, keeping his gaze on the clipboard.

Clem squeezed her eyes closed as she reminisced. Although her experiences could have ended _much_ worse, she preferred to pretend her ‘souvenirs’ didn’t happen at all.   
“A cut on my face, stitches on my left arm, and, uh...” She trailed off, swallowing a ball of anxiety forming in her throat, “...A missing finger.”

 _“Missing finger?”_ The man shot his eyes in surprise, completely oblivious to her unease. The teen ignored his exclamation, awkwardly shifting her balance between her feet. Given no response, he grumpily returned to the form, scribbling down his notes. A moment of piercing silence filled the air before he spoke up again.

“Sexual Orientation?”

Clem furrowed her brow. “What? Why?”

“So we know who to bunk you with,” He sneered, his lip curling. His face quickly filled with disdain, obviously not a fan of the subject matter.  
“Can’t have you mixing with _your kind_ if you’re **_that kinda way._ ** So what is it, kid?”

“None of your fucking business,” She spat, fighting with all her might to not to tell the bigot to fuck right off.

“Don’t get snippy with me, _you little-_ ” He started to raise his voice, before the sound of a door opening knocked them both out of their growing argument.

“I’ll take it from here, Abel.” A familiar voice insisted. Clementine instinctively twisted to the door, a genuine smile burning through her lips.

Lee greeted her with a smile of his own.

“Heyyy, girl.” He said cheerily, opening his arms for the inevitable embrace. Clem happily accepted it, running to plant her face into his chest.

“It’s been so long, Lee.” She sighed through his blue overshirt, completely melting her previous anger.

“You _know_ this girl?!” Abel groused, bending over the Admission’s window.

“Of course,” Lee mused, separating from the embrace to share a grin with the teenager. Hot tears pricked her eyes, quickly being wiped off by her sleeve.  
“It’s not like I have her picture on my desk or anything.”

 _“You have a picture of me?!”_ Clem instantly questioned, louder than intended. Her cheeks flooded with heat. She refused to think of the number of students that must have seen her.

“You and AJ,” He explained with a fatherly laugh, “Halloween, remember? You were both-”

 _“-Zombies.”  
_ Clementine hid her burning face in her hands. Ten minutes enrolled and she wanted to die _already.  
_ She distinctly remembered that holiday. AJ had insisted on indulging in some of Clem's interests. In his own weird, little way, that meant dressing in green face paint and fake blood, and begging Clem to do the same.  
“We were both _zombies.”_ She repeated, her hands muffling her voice.

Lee lifted a brow. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s _embarrassing.”_ She grumbled, throwing her hands to her side.

“Well, I think it’s cute.” He contested. With a grin, he walked to the girl’s suitcase and carried it to the door. “Let me walk you to your dorm, Sweet Pea.”

Abel interjected through the window. “But we ain’t assigned one yet, Lee,” 

“I already know of one, Abel,” Lee insisted, waving dismissively as they both walked to the door, “I’ll do the paperwork later.”

“But _Lee-”_ Abel attempted to say, before the door closed behind them both.

  
  


~

  
  


Through the dormitory’s West wing, the pair reminisced together as they walked along the hall. Blank, white walls shelled the long room, the floor blanketed by a crimson carpet.

"Still attached to that hat, I see."

Clementine turned to the male, noticing his gaze. He studied the girl’s blue baseball cap a touch longer than she thought necessary, fixated on a small red stain. Shrinking her shoulders as her memories came back, Clem simply shrugged in response, her arms crossing together in defense.  
The male quickly cleared his throat as he turned back to the hall, aware the eggshells he stepped on were starting to crack.

“I know the girls that live in this room,” He mentioned. Clem gave a mental sigh of relief at the steer in topic.  
“You’d get along well with them. I know how you are with making friends, so I wanted to take the initiative to bunk you.”

Clem gave an amused scoff to hide the bitter taste in her mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a saint.”

“Sure you are,” He banted, “Tell that to those kids you fought in- What, Freshman year?”

“Sophomore.” She corrected.

Lee chuckled. “You’re growing up so fast.”

“Not fast enough.”

“ _Too_ fast, if you ask me.”

“Don’t think I’m not angry with you, you know,” Clementine blurted, meeting his eye.  
“You’re the whole reason I’m here.”

The male gave a dejected frown, stopping in front of a door she noticed was marked ‘201’.

“I know it must be difficult for you,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck, “New place, new peers. But I really believe this could help you, Clem. There’s many ways to express yourself in this school. Not to mention the school’s rehabilitation and therapy programs.”

Clementine bore holes into the drab walls, her arms tightly folded against herself. Lee rubbed his temple at her silence, contemplating his next words.

“I’ve set you up with the school’s psychiatrist,” The male spoke through a sigh, unpocketing a folded piece of paper.  
“This is your class schedule. I even made sure you have me for History,” He winked, triggering a smirk to crack through the girl’s shelled exterior. Lee grinned as he finally got through to her, at least somewhat. Handing her the schedule, he pointed at an empty box between ‘Lunch’ and ‘Phys Ed’.

“Come back to my class after Lunch tomorrow,” He directed the girl, “We can discuss all of your options with extracurriculars, and your freedoms pertaining to the school. After that, I’ll walk you to your first therapy appointment.”

 _Therapy?_ Clementine scowled. “Is therapy really necessary?”

“Yes, it is,” He answered, kindness in his eyes.  
“The word is more daunting than it actually is. I promise.”

Clem said nothing, a small shrug being the only communication she was willing to express. It wasn’t like she could actually _refuse_.

Eventually, they both turned to look at the door beside them. “This is it,” Lee said, “But first, I need to tell you about the rules.”

The teen girl raised a brow. Following rules weren’t her strong suit.

“I know you’re not a fan,” He read her mind, “But I need you to try for me.”

With a stern sigh, Clem gave a quick nod.

A fatherly smile met Lee’s lips. “Firstly, there’s a uniform-”

_“-Uniform?!”_

“Yes, uniforms,” He stated, ignoring the dramatic groan escaping the teenager.  
“They should be in the dresser. Third drawer is yours. The closet is shared.”

He pointed to a crossing hallway a few doors down. “At the end of the right corner is the bathroom and showers. You should go before nine PM on weekdays. They lock the dorm doors at curfew.”

“Are you _serious?”_

He gave a shrug. “It’s not my rule. I’m just letting you know.”  
“And don’t break the lock, please. You’ll get into more trouble than it’s worth.”

Clem cracked a smile. He knew her too well.

“And one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, Sweet Pea,” He spoke warmly, wrapping his arms around her in a swaddling hug before she could protest. Clementine, however, contentedly accepted, chuckling heartily. He was the only person _ever_ allowed to do that.

“Love you too, Lee,” She muffled through his shirt.

As they broke apart, the man gave a cheeky wink before giving three taut knocks on the white wood of the door. Faint, panicked voices immediately leaked out of the room.

_‘waitwaitshitfuck-’_

_‘Vi,whydoyouevenbother-’_

_‘shut_ **_UP_ ** _Sophie,IsweartoGod-’_

“Girls? It’s Lee.” The male raised his voice.  
Although he wore a light grin, Clementine knew his expression was only to hide another unreadable feeling. 

_‘Oh,thankJesus-’_

_‘Sophie,ifyoudontshutyourmouth-’_

“One second!” A scratchy voice called through the door. Clementine raised her brow, meeting eyes with the male next to her. He responded with a dismissive expression. Must be a normal thing for them.

The sound of shuffling items and closing drawers escaped the room until the door eventually popped open. A tall, slender teenage girl with choppy blonde hair stood at the doorway. Clementine couldn’t help but notice the colorful pins and buttons attached to her torn jean vest.

“Hey, Mr. Everett,” The girl welcomed, a faint but friendly smile accompanying her as she gave both of the visitors an acknowledging glance.

“Hello, Violet,” He greeted, before his eye caught the other student, “Sophie.”

“Hi Mr. Everett,” Sophie waved from the top bunk, her long ginger hair running down the bed as she bent down. Clem took a peek at the series of sticky note doodles and drawings taped to the walls surrounding her bed. Must be the artsy type.

“Girls, this is Clementine,” Lee introduced, “The new bunkmate I mentioned.”

Clementine sighed inwardly. Now or never.  
“Call me Clem,” She politely affirmed, grabbing her suitcase, “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Violet stammered, quickly realizing she blocked the door and backed away. A faint, skunky smell filled Clementine’s nose as she walked inside. Subtlety must not have been their strong suit.

With a distinct brood, the male in the doorway gave a small sigh.  
“I’ll take my leave then,” He mended, grabbing the doorknob before stopping in thought.

“Oh, and Clementine?”

She twisted back to him. “Yeah?”

“You text me if you need anything, okay?” He asked. Affection laced into his voice like a father sending his child off to college.  
Only this time, it was a teacher and she was in prison.

“Okay, Lee.” She agreed, giving a heartening grin. She noticed the blonde give an unreadable reaction to their conversation, resting her back against the doors of the built-in closet.

Giving a final look at the young girl, the male gave a sensitive sigh. “See you in class, girls.” He muttered, waving farewell before shutting the door behind him.

Clementine crossed her arms, observing the decorations surrounding the dorm. Various posters lined the wall, giving the room a cozy, lived-in feeling that starkly contrasted the boring, empty hallway. A sticker-coated bookshelf stood against a wall, holding a diverse amount of books and binders. A window dully lit the room.  
The parallel bunk beds, although a dull metal, were lined with various colorful pillows and crocheted blankets. All except for one, which laid completely empty.

“Hey! Clem, right?” Sophie cheerily renounced, climbing down her bunk. She stopped in front of the other female, holding out a slender hand.   
“I’m Sophie!” Her bright blue eyes creased in a bright smile. Clem couldn’t help to notice her long, red hair flowing down her shoulders like lava. 

Clem indulged her kindness, briefly taking her hand. “Hi, Sophie.”

"Mr. Everret doesn't let anyone call him by his first name," Violet commented, arms crossed against the wall.

“I noticed that, too." Sophie said, tilting her head like a puppy. "Do you and him know each other, Clem?”

Clementine could immediately tell the redhead was more outgoing than the more reserved blonde. In more ways than one, she noted, eyeing the difference in style. Though the two were dressed similarly, Sophie’s comfortable attire consisted of a pop of different colors that meshed well together.

“Uh, yeah.” Clem answered, realizing her mind was running off-course, “Him and I are good friends.”

“That’s so cool!” Sophie chirped, taking a seat crisscross on the bunk below her own. “How do you guys know each other?”

“Long story,” Clem simply answered, following her lead to sit on the formerly-ownerless bunk. She didn’t want to get into something like that right now.  
An oak desk sat against the opposite side of the room, a pile of papers haphazardly sprawled against it. Violet leaned into the desk’s chair, raising to rest her boots on the desk’s surface.

“So, what are you in for?” Violet asked jokingly, relaxing her posture.

Clementine shrugged. “Arguing. Fighting. Things like that, I guess.”

“Ah,” Vi responded with a subtle nod, “I’d’ve thought something like that.”

Clem's brows crossed together.   
“What makes you say that?” She retorted, the back of her head warming from slight irritation.

“Your leather jacket,” The blonde answered simply, ignoring the girl's venom. Clementine looked down at her favorite jacket as if she didn’t wear it constantly.   
“Every girl that wears a leather jacket doesn’t take any bullshit.”

A genuine laugh escaped Clem’s lips at the girl’s quip, surprising everyone, including herself.  
“Thanks, I guess,” She responded. Maybe this situation wouldn’t be completely terrible. At least for now.

“What’s it mean?” Sophie piped up, eyeing the series of ‘S.S.M.C’ tags on the leather.

Clementine pursed her lips, wracking her brain for how to answer without revealing too much information.  
Kenny had gifted her the mechanic’s jacket a year or so prior as a reward for learning stick. The man was insistent on helping her overcome her fear of vehicles, and in an odd way at that.  
He figured teaching her everything he knew about cars would help her.  
It worked. For a short while, anyways. Until she actually got behind the wheel.

After that, she could never look Kenny in the eye again for what she did to him.

“Silver Stallion Mechanics,” Clementine answered, pushing her thoughts in the back of her mind. She gripped the blanket under her, balling the fabric in her fist.

“Mechanics?” Violet asked, “Like, cars and shit?”

“Yeah,” Clem confirmed, hiding the taste of bitter in her mouth. “Cars and shit.”

“Don’t tell Mitch,” She joked, “He’ll fall in love with you.”

Clementine opened her mouth to question the blonde, but the other spoke up before she had the chance to speak.

“This is great! You fit in so well!” Sophie gleed, clapping her hands, “Just wait until Minnie gets here, she’s gonna love you!”

“Minnie?” Clem got the chance to ask.

“Our roommate,” She answered, “My sister. Vi’s girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Clem questioned in confusion. But she thought...

“Guilty,” Violet admitted, raising a hand, “Don’t tell anyone. They’ll redorm me if they find out.”

 _That_ made more sense. Clementine nodded in understanding.

“This is her bunk.” Sophie added, patting the bed she sat on.

Clem eyed the spot. The bed was quite neat and orderly, with only a few extra pillows and a musical poster on the wall as any evidence of personality. Quite the opposite of her sister's ambient color.

“She’s in music practice right now with Louis,” The ginger mentioned.

“Louis?”

“You’ll know him the second you hear him,” Violet snided, “He’s the most obnoxious person alive.”

Clem huffed in amusement. “Can’t be worse than some people I know,” She banted, her grin slowly withering away at the thought of her old friends. As if on queue, her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to find a notification from one of the most obnoxious of all.

**_[DuckTail]:_ ** _SOOO how did your admission go? did you get a dorm yet? how is it? are you gonna join soccer again? mari told me the team misses you. she wanted to tell you herself but she thought youd be too busy to text her. we had lunch but it was kinda boring without you-_

The female rolled her eyes at the wall of text, immediately typing out a response she’s typed a million times before.

**_[Tangerine]:_ ** _You’re babbling again, Kenneth._

Clem blew a sharp breath, stuffing her phone back into her pocket.  
“I should unpack,” She told the other teens, sliding off of her bed.

“I can help you if you want,” Sophie offered, watching as the other lifted her suitcase onto the bed.

“Thanks, but I got it,” Clem refused, unzipping the bag, “It’s mostly clothes anyway.”

"What about decorations?"

"Nothing yet." 

“You should totally get some posters!” The redhead chirped, pulling out her own phone to search for decor ideas.  
“Is there anything you’re interested in?”

The teen thought as she folded a pair of ripped jeans. “I like zombies.”

Violet laughed. _“Zombies?”_

“What’s wrong with zombies?” Clem defended, stuffing her jeans into her designated dresser drawer. Lifting back up, the girl noticed the window above the dresser was welded shut by iron bars. 

“Just pegged you as more of a ‘vampire girl’, is all.”

Clem scoffed, twisting back to the girl. “How?”

“Leather jacket.” She repeated lazily.

Clementine couldn’t help but laugh at that. “What kind of girl are _you_ , then?”

“Mermaids,” She said with no hesitation.

“I wonder why,” Sophie sarcastically quipped, still scrolling through posters online.

While the pair joked amongst themselves, a quick vibration jolted through Clem’s pocket. Then two. Then three. She gave a small huff as she opened her phone, reading what must have been _so_ important.

**_[DuckTail]:_ ** _sorry. has it been ok for you there?_

**_[DuckTail]:_ ** _OH BTW another girl took your spot on the soccer team. i think her name is jamie or jane or something._

**_[DuckTail]:_ ** _she plays ok but mari says she doesnt care about the team like you did. gabe says he likes her but i think he just likes her ass._

Clem forced a laugh down as she typed her reply.

**_[Tangerine]:_ ** _Of course he would, it’s Gabe. He forms a crush on anything with tits._

_It’s been okay, thanks for asking. I’ll tell you about it later. Let Mari know it’s okay for her to text me._

Pocketing her phone again, Clementine finished sorting and putting away the rest of her clothing. As she pushed her suitcase under the bed, the dorm’s door swiftly opened.  
A teenage girl in an Ericson’s uniform walked in with a guitar case, kicking the door shut behind her. She eerily resembled Sophie, although instead of long locks, her choppy hair barely touched her neck.

“Minnie, look!” Sophie chirped, gesturing enthusiastically to the girl across from her, “This is Clementine, our new bunkmate!”

The musician stopped, eyeing the girl up and down in surprise. Clementine tensely crossed her arms, doing the same.

“You’re familiar,” Minnie noted, putting her case on the ground.

“I am?” Clem replied, confusion wrapping her face. She didn’t know what to expect as a first impression, but that _definitely_ wasn’t it.

“Where are you from?” She asked, folding her arms as the other did.

Clem crossed her brow. “Atlanta.”

The redhead squinted, not receiving an obvious answer. "Not ringing any bells."

Sophie pursed her lips in thought. “Well, she knows Mr. Everett-”

 _“THAT’S IT!”_ Minnie announced with a gasp, clasping her palms together as the realization hit her.

_Oh._

**_Oh no._ **

“The picture on Mr. Everett’s desk! You’re _Zombie Girl!”_

A rush of blood quickly flooded Clementine’s face.

The other teenagers in the room jumped to their feet, both yelling in unison,

**_“YOU’RE ZOMBIE GIRL?!”_ **


	2. Zombie Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite it being the first day of her classes, Clementine quickly realizes that the entire school already knows her as the "Zombie Girl" on Mr. Everett's desk. Hopefully, she can keep her secret going a little longer.

After being unwillingly shoved into a boarding school, Clementine wasn’t very hopeful about rehabilitation or new friends. Regardless, one of the few blessings she could count on was a fresh start. A new beginning, where she was nameless. Unknown.  
That’s all she could’ve looked forward to after her old life was ripped away from her.

However, little did Clementine know just about everyone with Everett for History would know of her, much less have a _fucking nickname_ for her.

She quickly learned from her bunkmates the alleged "Zombie Girl" was an enigma amongst the school.

~

_“It used to just be an inside joke in our friend group,”_ Violet had explained to her the previous night, _“Then it snowballed into this huge thing where everyone in his classes started doing it.”_

_“Why would you make an inside joke about a stupid photo?!”_

Clementine wanted to scream, but chose to mutter the sentence into her pillow as she smothered her burning face into it. She contemplated punching a hole in the wall beside her, like that’d somehow help.

 _“Noone knew you’d actually_ **_go_ ** _here,”_ Sophie nervously pleaded, _“Mr. Everett’s the one that gushes about you when someone asks about the photo-”_

Clementine immediately shot her head up, making the other girls jump back.

  
**_“WHAT?!”_ **

She was going to kick that man’s ass, friendship be damned.

  
  


As she walked to her first period, her blue baseball cap stuck out like a sore thumb throughout the sea of heads, bearing resemblance of a girl in a photo atop a certain history professor's desk. Only this time, she wore a scratchy plaid skirt and a choking tie.

She thanked whatever God was up there no one actively recognized her in the halls.

There, she seemed to be just another student. So far.

The girl walked through her English class’s doorway, scanning around the room. The teacher sat at her desk, her nose in a book as she waited for the tardy bell. The room was eerily peaceful for troubled youth, with only the hissing of whispered conversations filling the room. The teacher must not take any shit.

Clem gave a small grin as she eyed a pair of familiar redheads in the back of class waving her down.

 _“Psst! Over here!”_ Sophie said quietly, patting the desk in front of her.

Clem quickly shuffled her way through the aisle, trying to grab the least amount of attention as possible. The uncomfortable plastic chair gave a slight creak as she sat down, placing her bag under her feet. The teacher gave no more than a passing, distracted glance.

 _“We want you to meet Ruby,”_ The teen gleed, gesturing to the girl in the seat next to Clementine’s. She looked towards the girl- Her kinky copper hair stuck out in a loose bun, tufts of twisted tendrils framing her plump face.

 _“It’s Clem, right?”_ A sweet southern accent accompanied her soft voice. _  
_Ruby gave a quiet chuckle as she received a nod.  
 _“The girls told me we got a few things in common.”_

Clementine blinked. _“Like what?”_

 _“Like your_ **_tempers_ ** _, for starters.”_ _  
_The redheads behind Ruby snickered.

 _“Hush, Minnie,”_ Ruby scolded, flicking her sapphire eyes to the girl. Minerva quickly raised her hands in defence, allowing her to continue.

Although, before Ruby could get another word in, the tardy bell rang, and silence soon settled in the air. Ruby grumbled as she lowered to grab her notebook, Clementine following suit.

The teacher suddenly popped from her desk, clasping her hands to receive the room’s attention. Although aged, the woman appeared well put-together, a pair of seamless stockings and a tight bun giving a free facelift to her mature skin.

“You know the drill, students,” She said, her voice loud and posh, “Vocabulary!”  
Turning to the blackboard without a glance at her students, she began scratching the board with a thin stick of chalk. 

Clem followed the class and grabbed her pencil, preparing to write down the day’s notes until a light tap on her shoulder regained her attention.

 _“You said ya were from Georgia, right?”_ Ruby leaned in to whisper.

 _“Yeah, Atlanta,”_ Clem confirmed. Placing her pencil back down, she leaned closer. _“Are you?”_

The redhead curled her lips. _“Yep. My family’s from Macon.”_

 _“Macon?”_ Clem breathed, her mind instantly transporting to a certain drugstore. _“That’s where-”_

 **_“Would you guys shut up?”_ ** A masculine voice hissed.

Clementine whipped to the sound. A tan male sat in the desk in front of hers, back turned to the front of the classroom.  
 _“And who the hell are you?”_ She spat.

 _“That’s Aasim,”_ Ruby apathetically explained, _“Ignore ‘im. He’s always grumpy in the mornin’s.”_

The teen turned in his seat to address the redhead. Clem could practically see the steam shooting from his ears.  
“I’m not grumpy. I don’t want to get in trouble because of you.” He said bitterly.

_“Are too.”_

“Am not.” Aasim echoed.

 _“Are too,”_ Clementine joined in, earning chuckles from the girls around her.

“Fuck off,” He voiced, “I don’t even know you.”

**“Aasim!”**

All eyes shot to the male in question, while the small group darted theirs to the teacher.

“That language will _not_ be tolerated,” She squawked, her thin arms crossed tightly against her blouse. “Who gives you the right to interrupt my class with such vulgarity?”

The male swallowed, nervously wracking his brain for words. The same instance he opened his mouth, the girl behind him spoke up for him.

“It’s my fault,” Clem called attention to herself, folding her arms in defense of the eyes now daggering into her.  
“I started it.”

“ _Did_ you now?” The teacher chimed, her overplucked eyebrows raising in disbelief.  
“And who might _you_ be?”

“Clem-” She stammered, clearing her throat, “Clementine.”

“Well, _Clementine,_ ” The woman snided, “You must be the transfer. In this school we have a strict dress-code. That hat needs to come off.”

Clem cracked a chuckle, taking the teacher aback. She’s never taken that hat off for _anybody_ , and she was not gonna start now.  
“Sorry, not gonna happen.”

The woman thinned her blood-red lips in annoyance. “This is not a discussion. Take it off, or there will be consequences.”

Clementine silently leaned over, planting her crossed elbows on the desk.  
“Make me,” She taunted, staring the aged woman straight in her dark eyes.

She knew she shouldn’t make so much trouble on the first day, but she really couldn’t help it.  
It wasn’t like she had a choice.  
Plus, it was kinda satisfying to watch the blood vessel on that broad’s temple pulse...

“Headmaster’s office. Now!” The teacher snapped, darting her clawed finger to the classroom’s door.

Clem rolled her eyes as she rose from her desk, flinging her bag on her shoulder.   
Sneaking a glance at the trio of redheads, she cracked a smile as Minnie jokingly threw deuces.

“ _Now_ , Clementine.”

“I’m _going,_ ” She blurted, walking out of the aisle. She made it halfway out of the door before the teacher spoke up once again.

“You too, Aasim.”

_“What?!”_

“I haven’t forgotten of your outburst,” She sneered, “Go. Now.”

The male silently rose from his chair, following Clementine out of the door.  
The teenage girl gave a small chuckle as the door slammed shut behind them.

“How is this funny to you?” Aasim scowled, folding his arms.

Clem shrugged. “It just is.”

“Whatever,” He grumbled, taking off down the hall. Clem quickly trailed him, her shorter legs going double the pace of his.

“You know where the headmaster’s office is?” She asked.

“You don’t?”

“No,” She answered, “I’m new.”

“ _That’s_ obvious,” He said cynically.

Clem furrowed her brows. “How?”

“The way you talked back to Mrs. Cruelle,” He shuddered an answer, “ _No one_ does that to her.”

The female scoffed.  
“ _Cruelle?_ You’re telling me her name is Cruelle and no one even _tries?_ ”

“People usually take her name as a warning.” He said, cracking a half-smile. Clem took it as a sign he was warming up. Maybe he wasn’t so uptight, after all.

“Well, _I_ take that as a challenge,” Clem matched his grin.

A door emerged as they tailed the end of the hallway. Aasim approached it first, holding it open for the other to go through. More out of politeness than friendliness, she assumed.  
Eventually they both lead into a large, maroon foyer. A huge window overlooked a grand mahogany staircase, shining light onto an intricate carpet with the school’s insignia.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” He muttered suddenly, shoving his hands in his pockets as they started up the stairs.  
  
“Do what?”

The male’s pace slowed, before he spoke up again. “Take the heat like that.”

Clementine shrugged dismissively. “I was gonna get in trouble anyways.” 

“Well, thanks for trying at least,” He said, “Somehow I’m always wrapped into their shenanigans.”

Clem lifted her head, and immediately noticed him waiting at the top of the steps for her. Long legs must be a blessing.  
“Do you guys all know each other?” She asked.

“Unfortunately,” He quipped, “I’ve known most of them for years.”

_“That long?”_

“Most of our group grew up here.” He explained.  
“Some in this town, at least. A few of us have transferred over the years. Like you.”

Clementine pursed her lips in thought as she reached the top step, wondering how long they were trapped in this school if they really grew up here.   
Walking around the banister, they both rounded the corner into a small hallway, leading to a large double-door labelled ‘Headmaster’.

Straight forward enough, she supposed.

“Are we supposed to knock, or…” She trailed off in question, watching as the door opened as if on queue.

A suited heavyset man waddled out of the door, eyeing the pair suspiciously.  
“Well don’t just stand there, come in,” He instructed, his bushy mustache shaking with each word.

As the pair stepped into the office, Clementine scanned the room with peculiarity. The shelves and bookcases lining the walls were scattered with photos and trophies of accomplishments. A majority of which, she noticed in concern, were of a dog and its show competitions. As her eyes zoomed to random points of the room, a chill went up her spine at the sight of a large dog in it’s kennel, matching the appearances in the photos. The pitbull sniffed the air in curiosity at Clementine, and gave a low whine. 

“Don’t mind Rosie,” The headmaster grumbled as he leaned back into his seat, “She’s as sweet as can be.”

As much as she tried, Clementine couldn’t rip her gaze away from the canine. The dog didn’t either.  
“I had a bad experience with a dog once…” She muttered, refusing to step any closer to the chairs in front of the headmaster’s desk. Scenes of another dog flashed into her brain. The scar on her left arm buzzed with a low pain.

“I am aware,” The man said bluntly, his fingertips steepled together.  
“You are the new student. Clementine, correct?”

She said nothing as she kept her vision to the dog. The headmaster took it as a signal to continue. 

“I have had conversations with your parents and Mr. Everett about your experiences and such. I assure you that Rosie will not be of any disturbance to you. Now, if you would please, sit down.”

Heat began to rise in Clementine’s cheeks. Whether out of embarrassment, anger, or fear, she didn’t know. She just knew she needed to get out of that office and as fast as possible.  
As she considered making a break for it, a hand grazing her shoulder knocked her back to Earth.

Aasim gave a consoling glance, stepping between her and Rosie, and sequentially, the closest chair towards the dog.

“It’s okay, I’ll sit here,” He said, motioning to Clem to sit in the other seat.

Finally tearing her eyes away from the canine, the girl gave a weak nod, sliding backwards to the farthest chair. A wave of appreciation flooded the fear in her veins as she took her seat. The male mused, something unreadable filling his eyes before fixing his gaze back to the headmaster.

“Now that that is settled,” The headmaster dismissively groaned through his facial hair, “I’ve just been informed by Mrs. Cruelle that you had both caused quite a disturbance in her classroom. Normally I’d send you both back for something as petty as this, but the significance is troubling for such a new student.”

Clementine crossed her brow. Wasn’t this a school for troubled youth? What exactly did they expect?  
The headmaster had apparently caught her irritated expression, turning to her with a matching scowl.  
  
“You’ve refused to adhere to dress-code, and as she had put it, Miss Crawford, you had admitted you were at fault for Aasim’s outburst,” The man said, crumpling his nose, “There is more I want to say about your attitude, but I want to start with discussing the argument as both of you are here.”

Aasim attempted to speak up. “If I may, Mr. Richards-”

The heavyset male lifted his hand to stop the other. “You may not, young man. I want to hear what Clementine has to say for herself first.”

A moment of sharp silence passed through the air. She didn’t want to drag Ruby into the situation, and she didn’t want Aasim to get into any more trouble, so she had to come up with some excuse. And fast.  
She usually had a knack at fabricating defenses. It was a specialty of hers, actually. But the vicious animal on the other side of the room was proving the feat to be rather difficult.

“I started the argument...” She began, her eyes darting back and forth between the dog’s kennel and it’s owner. 

_“Yes, we know,”_ The headmaster said in a condescending tone. “I want to know _why_.”

A wave of irritation flew through her, before being washed down by her fear’s tide rising. Her eyes dashed brokenly through the room, meeting with the canine’s more often than not.

 _“Well?”_ They heard the headmaster say in irritation.

“Well…”

Closing her eyes, Clementine gave a deep breath to calm herself before continuing.  
As she wracked her brain for words, a lightbulb suddenly burst into light in her mind.

“What about my hat?” She promptly attempted to change the subject, a sigh of relief heard by Aasim immediately after.  
“I thought the reason I was here was because I didn’t take my hat off in class. Not because of the argument.”

The large man squinted at the girl, ambivalence painted on his face.  
Clementine refused to look away from his beady eyes. The more convincing she appeared, the better.

A piercing moment later, the headmaster finally blinked.

“I suppose that is true…” He mumbled, brushing his fingers across his mustache.

Clementine grinned in victory. Until he spoke up again.

“But Mrs. Cruelle is correct. There is a strict dress code to this institution and you must follow it like any other student.”

Clem blew a curl out of her face. Sure she managed to change the topic, but she forgot she actually had to _deal_ with the new one.  
“But you talked with my parents and Lee, right? About how important the hat is to me?” She tried to convince, leaning out of her chair, “You can’t make this one exception for something like that?”

Mr. Richards pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand the significance of comfort objects such as your hat. I do. But the dress code is unfortunately something we make rare exceptions to.”

 _Comfort object?_ Clem rolled her eyes, refusing to respond. It wasn’t like she was actually going to follow through. She just wanted this scolding session to end quickly. 

“Since you are a new student,” He continued, “I will give you a warning and hope this is a one-off situation. I will not be as generous if I hear from you again, understand?”

“Understood,” She said boredly. Knowing her track record, she’d be surprised if she’d make it through the day without some sort of punishment for _something._

“As for you, Aasim, I expected better from you. You will be going to detention and your parents will hear about this.”

Aasim thinned his lips, biting back a response. Dropping his head, he gave a defeated,  
“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Mr. Richards said in satisfaction, “Be grateful you no longer get the paddle.”

Clementine lifted a brow, sneaking a glance at the other teen. His hazel cheeks glew brighter as he gave a look that wordlessly begged her not to ask. She didn’t, turning back to the headmaster as he daggered into his wristwatch.

“Second period should begin soon,” He grumbled, raising a pointed finger towards the door. “You may both leave.”

Aasim lifted from his chair with a small goodbye and heavy-footedly walked to the exit. Clementine did the same, keeping the most distance as possible from the kennel against the wall. As she closed the door behind her, her eyes met with the other teenager, now rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry about that,” He said quietly, “I should’ve told you how much of an ass he is.”

Clem rested a hand on her hip, an amused breath flying out of her mouth. “Is every adult here a complete jerk?”

“Not all of them,” He shook his head, “A few are alright. Like the janitor, Mr. Porter-”

“-Wait,” Clementine interrupted, remembering the name from somewhere. Taking her schedule from her blazer pocket, she unfolded the paper and, sure enough, the second square of her classes were occupied by his familiar name.

 _“Mr. (Eugene) Porter,”_ Clementine read aloud, “I have him second period. Science.”

“So do I,” Aasim noted, the corner of his lip lifting. “And Ruby. Omar too.”

“Omar?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Please tell me what you think about it.  
> I wanted to make it longer, but I hit the 3000 word mark I usually leave my fics at. Do you like this length, or would you prefer it longer? Let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking your time to read this- if you have ANY advice, suggestion, or criticism, please tell me! I love hearing it.  
> P.S.  
> I'm very sorry, but due to a troll, I have to enable comment moderation. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't let that discourage you from commenting. I love hearing from you.
> 
> P.P.S.  
> I'm shamelessly going to advertise my Tumblr, @korrasamiancity.tumblr.com


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